


To dance on the grave of a poor man's beloved

by Alacaia



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Era, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Lost Love, M/M, My First Fanfic, Oblivious Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), a bit dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:20:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23583736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alacaia/pseuds/Alacaia
Summary: The stars twinkled with a cold, ethereal beauty as the man fell to his knees, as his tears fell from his eyes. He kneeled before the world, before his world. Before the grave of his beloved.And the warlock wept for the loves that he had lost.For their souls which he couldn’t safe.For the hearts his destiny had cost him.The girl that had swept him of his feet, the one he had barely been granted time with, and the man he had known for years, who had saved him countless times. Whom he had been tortured with, by the one soul he didn’t try hard enough to save.Or:Merlin had planned to spend his birthday in solitude, mourning for his lost loves. Gwen is slightly concerned, and Arthur is a dork.
Relationships: Freya/Merlin (Merlin), Gwen/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Lancelot/Merlin (Merlin)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 143





	To dance on the grave of a poor man's beloved

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first actual fanfiction, and English is not my first language, so please be kind.  
> Also, my awesome friend Ditzlfritzl beta-ed my work, so thanks a lot, luv!  
> To make some things clear:
> 
> 1) Arthur and Gwen are married, Lancelot and Merlin were in a (secret) relationship before he entered the veil. When he came back he didn't remember his feelings for Merlin.  
> 2) Lancelot and Guinevere never had feelings for each other, they were close friends. Arthur was just jealous.  
> 3) I think that's it, please leave a review, even (especially) if you disliked it.
> 
> Have fun!

To dance on the grave of a poor man's beloved

“So, I thought, we could go to the tavern later. To celebrate”

“Gwaine, you’re always at the tavern.”

“Aye, but Merlin isn’t.”

Arthur scoffed. “What’s there much to celebrate?”

“You’re not serious, are you? You at least got him a present, right?”

Arthur stared blankly at Guinevere.  
He had had just closed their meeting and while his knights and beloved wife had stayed with him, Merlin had muttered some excuse and disappeared.

“A present for Merlin? What would I get him a gift for?”

“Don’t tell me you forgot his birthday! He’s been here for ages now.” Guinevere sounded incredulous. 

“I didn’t forget,” Arthur tried to defend himself,” he never told me.”

“And you never bothered to ask.”, Gwaine chimed in.

“Well, then he’s at least getting the evening off.”

“But Gwen, I….”

“No Arthur, that’s indisputable. A free night will do him some good. He’s been working too hard lately.” 

“Merlin? Working too hard? Merlin’s the laziest person I know.”

“You really haven’t noticed anything, Sire?”  
This time it was Leon, who joined the conversation.  
“Merlin has been…off lately. Ever since Lancelot…...” He trailed off, shooting his queen a look.

Guinevere stood up. 

“I’ll tell him. Are you heading down to the Tavern already?” She smiled at Arthur. 

He nodded, meeting her eyes for a moment.  
A soft smile playing on his lips.  
The Queen hurried off, as her husband and his knights stood.

________________________________________________________________

Guinevere found Merlin in his chamber. She had knocked, and although he hadn’t answered, she entered the room. 

Merlin was sitting on his bed, a tattered bag in his hands. He looked up at her and smiled as she made her way to him. 

“My Lady, what can I do for you?” 

She sat down next him. “I have a gift for you.”

“Gwen, you shouldn’t have. You really don’t need to….”, he started.

The young woman didn’t let him finish. “I wanted to.”

She pulled a leather bracelet from her pocket. “It’s just something small. Come on, give me your hand.”

“Thank you, Gwen.” He smiled as she fastened the braided band around his wrist.

“So, Arthur gave you the night off. They should be headed to the tavern now. Are you coming?”

Merlin hesitated. 

“Actually, I had planned to go into the woods for a bit. You know, clear my head for a bit. Enjoy the peace. If you don’t mind, that is?”

The queen shot him a concerned look. “It’s your birthday Merlin, are you sure you want to be alone tonight?”

“I just need to get away from everything for a while.”

Guinevere frowned. “Are you alright?”

The servant’s expression softened. 

“I will be, yes. Don’t you worry Gwen.”  
Then he smiled at her.  
“Now go, you don’t want to keep our royal prat waiting, do you?”

“Of course not.”, Guinevere laughed and stood. After a few steps she paused at the door and turned. 

“You could join us later. Knowing Gwaine, they will most likely spend the night there.”

The young man chuckled. “I just might.”

His queen shot him a last smile before she headed off.

________________________________________________________________

The tavern was filled with laughter, noise and the sweet smell of mead. Guinevere made a beeline for the table frequently occupied by the king and his most trusted knights. Her brother was mocking Gwaine, while the others laughed along.  
The woman took a seat next to her husband, who peered over her shoulder, searching for his servant. But it was Leon, who spoke first.

“Where’s Merlin?”

“He’s not coming.”

“What? I give him a good reason to come to the tavern for once and he’s not coming?”

Gwaine rolled his eyes at the disbelieving king’s antics.

“He wanted some time alone.”, the young woman offered. 

“On his birthday?”, Arthur inquired, his eyebrows raised.

“Yes, something about finding peace in the woods.”

“Now that doesn’t sound weird at all.”, Arthur drawled. Gwaine smirked.

“Well, then let’s find out what he’s up to.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”  
The queen sounded concerned, a frown starting to form on her face.  
“He wanted to be alone.”

“Oh come on, don’t you want to know what Merlin does all alone in the woods in the middle of the night? Besides, it’s Merlin. He’s bound to run into some trouble.”, Gwaine argued.

Percival sighed. “Leave it alone Gwaine. He deserves to have a break of us.”

“When has Merlin not ended up in a mess?” Elyan quipped in.  
Guinevere’s frown deepened.

“Well, what are we waiting for, then?”

“Arthur, leave him alone, it’s just one night.” 

“Don’t worry, my lady, he’ll hardly notice us.”  
Gwaine, who was already out of his seat and halfway to the door had turned.  
“It’s Merlin after all.”

Arthur laughed and threw a handful coins onto the table. “Gwaine, you owe me.”

The knight in question grumbled and handed his king a few silver pieces while the rest of the knights left some of their own on the table. 

The Queen straightened.

“Then I’m coming with you. Someone has to make sure you don’t get into trouble.” 

She stared defiantly at her husband.  
The knights chuckled, Arthur huffed, and they finally made it out of the tavern.

The sun hadn’t set too long ago and with the light of flickering torches the group cast odd shadows on the not-quite-empty streets as they went their way out of town.  
Arthur took one of the torches lighting up the city walls, Percival and Leon copied him. 

Guinevere sighed. She had made her displeasure known.

________________________________________________________________

Merlin halted.  
Breathing in the nights chill he let his head fall back for a moment.  
The trees obscured his view of the night sky, but it didn’t matter. He was not in the woods for stargazing.  
With another deep breath he started walking again. He knew the way like the back of his own hand, regardless of how few times he had actually visited.  
He straightened his bag. He hadn’t brought much, he never did. It wasn’t a long walk after all, and even with a night off he wouldn’t be able to spend too much time there.

Breaking through the thicket he stopped again, this time to take in the view. 

The lake lay calm, surrounded by trees and huge snow-kissed mountains in the distance.  
A sword stuck in the ground at the shore, bathed in silver moonlight. The world seemed to stand still as he slowly treaded closer, until a soft breeze rippled the lake surface.  
Nature’s cold sigh breathed his dark hair into his eyes. 

The stars twinkled with a cold, ethereal beauty as the man fell to his knees, as his tears fell from his eyes.  
He kneeled before the world, before his world.  
Before the grave of his beloved. 

And the warlock wept for the loves that he had lost. 

For their souls which he couldn’t safe. 

For the hearts his destiny had cost him. 

The girl that had swept him of his feet, the one he had barely been granted time with, and the man he had known for years, who had saved him countless times.  
Whom he had been tortured with, by the one soul he didn’t try hard enough to save. 

Time passed. Hours, minutes, seconds, he couldn’t have told.

He straightened, all of a sudden.  
Stood up.  
Dried his tears.

Letting out a weak chuckle, he sat at the lake’s shore. Old leather boots next to him, his feet dangling in the water as he whispered, and still the young man’s voice carried over the silent lake.

“I love you.”

He hadn’t said that often enough.  
Not to Freya, and not to Lancelot. Beautiful, sweet, cursed Freya and courageous, noble Lancelot, used by a scared girl whom he had turned into a monster. 

Abused. 

It had ripped his heart out when the shade kissed Guinevere, when his lover didn’t remember their love. 

It had made him furious. More than.  
He had been on the brink of insanity, desperation. And then the shade had killed himself.  
And all the pain came back. 

It was worse than the first time.  
It was tearing him apart. Ripping his insides out of his burning body.  
And all of a sudden, nothing mattered anymore. 

Who cared about destiny, when his whole world was pain? 

They said, the descend into hell is a slow path, one you don’t even realise leads downwards until you look up and see.  
But that was not true. His descend into hell was a fall. 

Darkness and agony. 

The warlock sighed again.  
He opened his bag and took out a handful of seeds.

“Blóstmá” 

A mere whisper, a flash of gold and he held bunch of roses in his hand. Red as the blood of his beloved.  
Red as his love.

He put them down next to the sword. All except one, which he turned between cold fingers.  
Admiring their elegance, the velvety kiss of the flower petals and the sharp sting of the thorns.  
And he looked across the lake, staring into another world.

________________________________________________________________

“Why are we doing this again?”, Gwaine whined.

“You wanted to find out what Merlin is doing.” Elyan reminded him. 

Arthur shot Gwaine an annoyed look.  
“At least it’s obvious where Merlin was going. He may have improved his own tracking skills, but the fool is as graceful as a swine.” 

Percival chuckled.  
“Maybe he just doesn’t expect to be tracked, Sire.” 

Arthur turned to him.  
“One should always expect to be tracked.”, he replied scathingly. 

Guinevere yawned. “Maybe we should leave him be and head back.”

“After we’ve come all this way? I’m not turning back now.”  
Her husband really was more stubborn than a mule.

“Quiet!”, Leon hissed, “I think the woods end there.”

Silently, they crept through the thinning forest until Arthur suddenly halted. 

The view was incredible.  
A beautiful lake, high mountains protruding in the distance and a brilliant sky.  
Arthur watched the hunched figure at the shore for a moment. Sitting next to a sword, roses on the ground around him. It was a sight as from a bard’s mournful ballad.  
Motioning the knights and queen to stand back, the king inched closed to the hunched figure of his manservant.  
He came to halt not far away from him as his companions settled on the forest floor.

“Going for a midnight swim? Is that what my servant does on his nights off?”, Arthur teased, a smirk playing on his lips.

Merlin didn’t flinch. He didn’t turn around. He didn’t answer for a long time, and Arthur wanted to say something, tease again, joke, to just break the uncomfortable silence between them, when Merlin reacted.

“What are you doing here?” It was a numb statement, but there was an underlying tone Arthur couldn’t quite discern.

“Well, maybe I wanted to go for a late-night swim.”

“No.”

“No, Merlin? I am your king, I don’t think you can tell me what to do.”  
Arthur was mocking him.  
He always did.  
But this was not the time for mindless banter, nor was it the right place.

“No.”, Merlin repeated, more forcefully. “Not here.”

Arthur raised his eyebrows. “I thought, you had finally understood that you are not the one giving me orders.” 

Taking off his boots as well, he stepped into the water. Merlin’s brows furrowed. 

“Get out of the lake.”

Arthur laughed. “You are telling me to get out of a lake in my kingdom?”

“Get out.”, Merlin repeated. 

“Merlin, you can’t command your ki…”

Merlin jumped to his feet.

“You have no right! You have no right to even look at this lake, let alone stand in its water. After everything I’ve done for you, after everything I gave up for you, you have no right to be here.”  
He didn’t scream, but the fury was evident in his voice.  
Arthur hadn’t ever heard him like that.

“What is that supposed to mean? I own this very lake, I own this land, I am the king of…” 

Merlin exhaled forcibly.  
“Get out!” 

His teeth were bared. It puzzled Arthur. 

“Merlin, are you alright?”  
Guinevere. Arthur hadn’t heard her approaching.  
She reached out to place her hand on Merlin’s shoulder. 

He whipped around and stared at her. His jaw clenched, shoulders tense and ready to strike.  
The queen flinched back, confusion etched on her face.  
Arthur frowned.

“What is your problem?” 

Merlin turned back to glare at him.  
“You could for once in your miserable life honour another person than yourself, Sire.” His servant spat the title at him.

“Honour whom? Why are you like that Merlin? I even gave you the night off, there is no need to be rude.”  
Arthur didn’t understand.  
He never did, maybe he never would.

“I wouldn’t dance on Guinevere’s grave, maybe you shouldn’t either.” Merlin was seething.

The woman gasped, understanding lit in her eyes. 

But Arthur didn’t understand.

“Guinevere’s grave? But she doesn’t...I mean she’s alive. Why would anyone…?” 

Guinevere shook her head.  
“I am so sorry Merlin.”, she hesitated, “Who?”

“Freya,”, his voice shook as he continued, “and Lancelot.” 

Guinevere glanced at the sword, tears in her eyes, and finally, finally the king understood.

“You buried them here?”, Arthur breathed.

Merlin nodded slowly.  
“I carried them to this shore, put them in a boat and set it on fire.”, his lip curled in disgust, “A funeral fit for royalty, don’t you think, your Majesty?”  
His voice was laced with sarcasm. Arthur swallowed. 

“I’m sorry.”

Merlin scoffed.  
“Yes, me too.”  
He dropped to his previous position at the waterside.

Arthur stepped onto the shore again and Merlin’s shoulders slumped.  
He sat down next to his servant.

“Who was Freya?” 

Guinevere’s voice wasn’t more than a whisper, it didn’t need to be.  
They had sat in silent contemplation for a while. Merlin stayed silent for a bit longer.

“The Bastet.”, he offered eventually.

Arthur’s forehead creased. 

“She had been cursed by a witch a long time ago. To transform every night and kill forevermore. She hated herself for it.”  
A pause.  
“I loved her.”

“I killed her.”, Arthur said. He felt ill.  
He turned to Merlin. 

“I know.”

Guinevere’s hand rested on Arthur’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” 

Merlin’s expression didn’t change.  
“I know.”

They fell silent again.

“You loved Lancelot too, didn’t you?” 

It was again their queen, who broke their solemn taciturnity.  
Arthur held his breath.

“I did.”, he hesitated, “I do.”

“So did he.” Guinevere smiled softly, mind filled with fond memories.

“Then why…?” Arthur started, trailed off, looked from Merlin to his wife and back.

“Morgana.”, it was all that Merlin said, it was all that was needed.

Arthur clenched his fists. Guinevere squeezed his shoulder.

“It wasn’t even him.” Merlin muttered. 

Guinevere took her hand off Arthur’s shoulder and offered it to Merlin.  
Her friend stared at it for a moment, then took it into his.

“I’m sorry.” Arthur's words felt hollow, not enough.

Merlin looked at him, not glaring anymore, and nodded slowly.

“I know.”

And that was that.

Friday, 10 April 2020  
ISS


End file.
